Jul. 31st, 2008
Fandom: SG: Atlantis
Characters: John/Rodney (established)
Disclaimer: Not mine!
"Are you going to let him carry your books for you next?" John's voice catches Rodney by surprise. He turns around, finds John leaning against the doorway of the balcony beside Rodney's quarters, and frowns. John sounds irritated, arms crossed and expression dark.
Rodney waves open the door to his room, asking, "What are you talking about?" as he steps in. John follows him, which isn't a surprise. The way John then proceeds to grab Rodney and slam him up against the wall kind of is. "Hey!"
John doesn't step back, pressed close and tight against Rodney's back, his hands braced against the wall on either side of Rodney's shoulders. Rodney can feel John's hot breath against the back of his neck, and when he tries to push away John just grunts and presses harder.
"Okay, Tarzan, would you like to try articulating what your problem is? Because I have a hell of a lot of work to get caught up on and I really don't have time to—"
John cuts him off with a harsh, almost angry, laugh, "But you have plenty of time for him, don't you?" The words are all clipped off, and are accompanied by John kicking Rodney's feet apart, grinding up against him, pushing him even harder against the wall.
"Look, John, can you just—"
"No!" The word is almost an explosion, and Rodney blinks, trying to get one hand up to rub at his ear. John slides a hand down, grabbing Rodney's wrist and squeezing hard. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, but no less tense, "No. No, I really can't."
Rodney frowns, snapping, "You don't even know what I was going to say."
John growls, grinding his crotch hard against Rodney's ass, lowering his mouth and biting hard at the side of Rodney's neck. Rodney jerks automatically, yelping, and John just bites harder, braced and not budging. When he finally stops, it's just to suck at the bite, drawing blood to the surface of the skin, making the inevitable bruising worse.
Rodney blinks rapidly, his heart beating faster, and has to clear his throat twice before managing, "John? What's going on?"
John grunts, still working on the bruise, his dick hot and hard enough that Rodney can feel it through all the layers of their clothes. After a few minutes of indulging John's sudden tendency towards vampirism, Rodney rolls his eyes and tries to push away from the wall again, grumbling, "Look, I really have to—"
John shoves him back against the wall, growling, "Got a hot date? Is it someone I know?" biting again, higher, right below Rodney's jaw where there's absolutely no way Rodney will be able to hide the resulting mark.
"What? Are you insane? Or just stupid?"
John ignores him with another growl, but at least he shifts back a step. Rodney rolls his eyes, leaning back himself and John braces a hand between Rodney's shoulder blades, pushing him back against the wall. Rodney jerks, "Okay, look, I don't know what your issue is, but if you don't want to—fuck!"
Rodney's shirt gets pulled over his head frighteningly quickly, and Rodney is still trying to figure out how John managed that when he realizes that John is using the shirt to pin his wrists together in the center of his back. A half second later Rodney is flattened against the wall again, John grinding out, "I can't, Rodney, okay? I just, I just—" he cuts himself off with a frustrated sound.
And then John's sliding a hand around Rodney's hip, fingers scrambling at the button and zipper. Rodney curses again when John shoves his pants down his hips, John resting his forehead on Rodney's shoulder, one hand sliding down to cup Rodney's dick possessively, the other gripping at Rodney's ass.
Rodney takes a deep breath, "John?"
John shakes his head with a ragged sound, and then steps back, barking, "Don't move, I'm getting the lube," and then he's stomping off. Rodney thinks for a half second, and then rolls his eyes.
By the time John comes back, Rodney is sitting on the floor, his boots kicked off, trying to squirm out of his pants without the use of his hands. John looks disheveled, his eyes wild, his mouth reddened, his shoulders up around his ears.
For a moment he just stares down at Rodney and then he drops down to his knees, yanking Rodney's pants the rest of the way off and wrapping a hand around the back of Rodney's head, dragging him into a bruising kiss.
John pulls away with a last bite to Rodney's bottom lip, but only goes far enough to rub his stubbled cheek across Rodney's skin, down his neck, leaving it stinging and no doubt stained red. Rodney gasps, "John," when John pushes at his shoulders, shoving him down onto his back which is not the most comfortable position with his hands caught behind him.
John just bends over him, fumbling the lube open as he bites his way across Rodney's chest. John grinds out, "He doesn't get to have you," and closes his hot wet mouth over one of Rodney's nipples, his hand making itself at home between Rodney's thighs, one finger shoving into Rodney's body without so much as a by your leave.
Rodney groans and squirms around the intrusion. John's other hand curls around Rodney's cock, setting a brutally fast pace. Rodney's pretty sure he got hard sometime around John first slamming him against the wall, and he curses, louder when John decides that things are moving too slowly and works three fingers up his ass.
And before Rodney can even adjust to that John is pulling them out, grabbing Rodney's hips and flipping him. Rodney hears a zipper, and tries to roll himself up onto one shoulder, and then John has his hips again, pulling him back and up and off balance.
The press of John's cock into him burns, huge and blunt. Rodney jerks, but John is holding him in place, driving into him in one long, hard, fast stroke. John has one hand braced on the floor over Rodney's shoulder, the other digging into Rodney's hip, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
For a long moment John just stays there, balls deep, breathing so hard that it's audible. And then he grunts and shifts, and each thrust is deep and brutal. Rodney twists against the shirt around his wrists, his body rocking with each slide of John into him.
And that's when John finally starts talking, "Fuck, Rodney, he can't have you. He doesn't get to take you away from me. I can't—I won't let him." There's a hard edge to his voice, right under all the desperation, and Rodney blinks at John's wristband, trying to think of something to say.
John chooses then to reach around Rodney's hip, fisting his cock again, jacking him fast, "God, Rodney, please don't leave me alone. Please, please," and Rodney wonders if John is even aware of what he's saying, of the way his voice is jagging with each increasingly ragged thrust of his hips.
Rodney manages, swallowing, "I'm not going to, you idiot," and John makes a rough sound, shoving into Rodney hard and then shuddering. And they don't usually fuck condomless, but apparently today they are, and Rodney shivers at the feel of it, John collapsing down on top of him, breathing hard and heavy.
When John finally pulls out, Rodney hisses, squeezing his eyes shut, and John curses, tugging the shirt off of Rodney's wrists. He's saying, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I didn't, oh fuck," dragging his fingers across the bruises on Rodney's neck, pushing Rodney onto his back and wincing at the matching marks down his chest.
Rodney grunts, pushing himself into a sitting position and wincing. Sitting is going to be an issue for a few days. And he's still hard. Rodney frowns, looking up at John expectantly. Rodney is surprised to find John staring at him looking horrified, and Rodney looks down at himself half expecting to find some horrible wound staring back at him.
There's nothing. Rodney scowls, "What? John, for fucks sake, what?"
John is shaking his head, "I can't—I didn't mean—I'm so sorry," he looks like he might be in danger of passing out, and Rodney sighs, reaching out to grab the back of John's neck and pull him in for a kiss, gentler than the last had been.
John tries to squirm away at first, but Rodney holds on, only releasing him when he's ready. John still looks vaguely ill, and Rodney kisses him hard, before managing, "John. If you don't finish what you started then you might have some actual reason to worry about Richardson, okay?"
And it's like the magic words, the way just the mention of the other man's name makes John's expression go dark and stormy. Rodney ends up on his back, John curled over him, mouth wet and hot on Rodney's dick. Rodney groans, and goes with it.
They'll have to talk about John's caveman issues later.
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